


Forgiven

by Silent_So_Long



Series: otpprompts [51]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sexual Content, Silly Paul is silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:12:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard, Paul and an ill-advised prank. (an AU fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgiven

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the following prompt left upon tumblr's otpprompts (yet another of those prompts I've had saved for a gazillion years since before quitting that site which tumbles)
> 
>  
> 
> [Person A arrives home after a long day at work, and much to their surprise (and horror), Person B is covered head to toe in a sleeping bag and is now scooting down the hallway towards them at an alarming rate. There is no escape.](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/134305403904/person-a-arrives-home-after-a-long-day-at-work)
> 
>  
> 
> For those that may not know, I am from England, and so therefore will refer to 'fries' as 'chips' throughout this story 'cos that's what we call 'em here, I bloody well tell thee. I thought I might mention that, to save potential potato based confusion.

Richard sighed as he slid from behind the wheel of his car, reluctant to leave the warmth of it even for the short walk from the vehicle to the front of the apartment block, where he lived with Paul. The day was cold, and the clouds were low in the sky and a heavy iron-grey; snow was already beginning to skirl and to spiral down from them, sticking to concrete and asphalt alike. Richard cursed beneath his breath as he locked the car, shuddering beneath the weight of the cold as it pushed bone-deep into his body, despite the heavy coat he wore over equally heavy, and multi-layered clothing. His breath steamed in front of his face in great clouds, and remained there until finally dissipating into floating, crystalline shards of drifting moisture when he walked through them. Despite the fact that they drifted away, more were soon produced, huffed from between slightly parted lips as he trudged through the gathering snow; the flakes drifting down grew faster, heavier, thicker, and seemed to stick against his very skin, clumping in his eyelashes and threatening to drag the lids down with the combined freezing weight of them.

Richard picked up the pace, mindful of slipping over on potential patches of black ice and managed to make it to the front door of the apartment block in one piece; he sighed with relief as the door closed behind him, shutting out the cold day and the promise of colder weather yet to come. That relief was just as much for the warmth that held the buildiing in its grip as it was for the fact that he'd entered unscathed and unharmed. He also was glad for the fact that the day was over and that he could finally relax in the safety of his own apartment, with Paul by his side, bellies filled with warm food, hot chocolate and hopefully some of the pastries that Paul had brought home the evening before. He hoped that Paul hadn't actually eaten the entire package, whilst he'd been at home; unlike Richard, who worked in a record store dealing entirely in both old and new vinyl, Paul worked from home, hunched before his laptop, banging out novels and short stories wih equal abandon, mind ticking and whirring with the pace of a thousand words in what seemed a short time-span to Richard. 

Richard paused at the doorway that separated his wearied body from his apartment and yawned again; tiredness had seemed to grow exponentially in the walk from the foyer of the apartment building and up the three flights of stairs he'd needed to take to get to the right floor. It felt as though that weariness had been compounded by a seemingly endless day at work, filled with difficult, recalcitrant customers and screaming, equally recalcitrant children, wiping grubby fingers and equally grubby noses against the dust jackets covering the precious LP's. Richard shuddered, glad for the fact that in a few days, it would be the start of his one week holiday, which he planned to spend, in its entirety, in the apartment, preferably wrapped in the arms of Paul and an equally cosy blanket before the small gas fire they kept in the living room.

He fumbled his keys from his pocket, gave the door a slight tap-tap-tap in the special code he'd long since organised with Paul; it was a knock that Paul had laughingly devised, with the intent to let each other know that they were home safe at last, should either one of them be out alone. Richard smiled despite his tiredness at the cosy familiarity of it all, as he fumbled the correct key into the lock, twisted it and pushed the door open. He was surprised to find that the hallway was doused in darkness, and he stepped through the doorway with a frown, hands too full with his bags from the day to switch on the light as yet.

"Paul?" he called. "Paulie? I'm home, darling." 

There was no immediate response, and a sudden stab of fear passed inexorably through Richard's body then; Paul had not mentioned any plans about going out that day, and Richard knew that his lover usually was in the habit of giving such warnings. Richard suddenly had visions of Paul perhaps laying injured somewhere in the apartment, or laying ill in the bedroom.

"Paulchen?" Richard tried again, as he swung the door shut behind him as gently as he could with his butt, so as not to disturb the other man if he genuinely was ill in bed. "Are you alright, love?" 

There still was no response and Richard swore, fear lending his tone a brief and unwanted spikiness that made him feel oddly stupid and childish. He berated himself for such stupid and unwarranted thoughts, then; of course, it was natural for him to be worried about his partner, and the man that he loved. He knew better than to think that such feelings were childish, after all this time. 

He sighed and placed his bags gently by the door, intending to pull the remainder of the day's sandwiches from its depths and to place them in the fridge for a snack later on. He shrugged out of his coat, realising as he did so that the light still was out when he missed the hook upon the wall with the corresponding loop on his coat. He cursed, and was reaching out with his free hand when he first heard the noise. Richard remained frozen in place, eyes shifting blindly in the darkness, even though he still was facing the wall and there was nothing to see there, even when the light was on. 

He listened hard, and the sound came again, emanating from somewhere down the corridor and Richard listened still harder. The sound was unlike anything he'd ever heard before, like an odd shushing, silken sound scooting against the soft carpet in their hallway, oddly rhythmical and slow. 

"Paul?" Richard tried again, yet he knew that the sounds couldn't possibly have come from his lover.

Paul was usually noisier than that, mouth running a mile a minute as soon as Richard came home, regaling him with laughter and plenty of funny tales, feet plonking heavily wherever Paul went. This sound was too quiet for Rchard's lover, even when the other man occasionally wore his slippers. The noise came again, closer that time and ever more laborious and Richard heard an accompanying struggling, panting noise too.

"Jesus Christ," Richard said, utterly hating the frightened yelp in his voice at that.

He finally reached out, snapped on the light and he squinted when his eyes, previously accustomed to the darkness were flooded; Richard squinted and it took him a few moments to adjust to the brightness, even though the hallway light wasn't all that bright to begin with. He looked down to the floor when he felt the first brush of something against his calf and he jumped back, cursed, spat invectives flying from his lips at the odd shape that he saw upon the floor. Richard's back collided uncomfortably with the door, and the back of his head rebounded from the wooden barrier, even as the silken, lumpen shape that had been at his feet squirmed and slithered closer.

"What the fuck?" Richard yelled, when he heard the unmistakable sound of Paul's sudden laughter emanating from inside the silken lump.

What he'd thought, in his initial confused shock, to be a large, overgrown and squidgy caterpillar was actually a man-sized shape swathed in one of the sleeping bags they'd bought years ago and had never gotten around to using. Richard heard the tell-tale sound of a zipper unfurling, sending its ratcheting, ripped-paper sound arcing up into the air around the swaddled form of Paul. Paul himself emerged from his self-made coccoon, like the world's largest and distinctly mannish butterfly, red-faced and wild-haired, swathed in grins that sent deep wrinkles fanning out from the corners of his eyes.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Paul?" Richard yelled, as soon as he'd regained his composure a little. "Trying to give me a heart attack, on purpose, I should think." 

"Not on purpose, no, Reesh," Paul replied, and his grin dimmed a little beneath Richard's very real wash of hysterical anger. "I just found it whilst I was tidying up the bedroom cupboards and decided to play a prank on you. I didn't think it'd scare you that much, in all honesty."

"Well, you fucking did, you arse-hole," Richard said, and still he did not smile, or laugh or do anything more than simply glare at his lover. "I thought you were fucking ill, or injured or something when you didn't answer me, and then that thing came slithering down the fucking corridor at me."

Richard jabbed his pointing fingers towards the sleeping bag, and when he looked up into Paul's face again, he saw that there was genuine contrite apology in his lover's gaze.

"I'm sorry, Reesh. It was just a joke," Paul said, and Richard heard further apology in his tone, which stretched to Paul's eyes and softened them. "I didn't think you'd take it that badly."

Richard merely snorted and pushed past Paul, plucking his bags from the floor as he did so. He stormed into the kitchen, pulled his left-over sandwiches from the depths of it and pulled open the fridge door with a clatter. He all but flung the silver foil covered package within the fridge's depths and slammed the door closed again. He turned and all but collided with his lover, nose to nose and toe to toe, Paul's breath warm and gently huffing against his cheek.

"I'm sorry, darling," Paul said, as his hands slipped across the surface of Richard's heavily clad hips and shored up somewhere in the region of Richard's back. "I really am."

Richard huffed and refused to do anyting except stand rigid in Paul's grasp, merely glaring at his lover at close range, breath and chest heaving with his angry breaths. Richard swallowed when he felt the first soft peck of Paul's mouth against the corner of his, pecking feather light apologetic kisses against his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his chin, and Richard felt himself relaxing against his lover, despite his still very real anger.

"I'm sorry," Paul repeated, as he graced Richard's mouth with another gentle kiss. "Let me make it up to you."

"You'll have to do a hell of a lot to make up for it, Paul," Richard said, with a sudden frown.

"I will. I promise," Paul said, and Richard sighed, as he knew that Paul usually kept his promises. "Were you really so worried about me, earlier? You said that you'd thought I was ill."

"Yeah, you fuck-head," Richard said, even as he finally caved and slid his arms tightly around Paul's body. "I thought you'd fallen in the shower or something or was laying down with a migraine." 

"Sorry," Paul said, again, as he leant in to nuzzle his nose affectionately against Richard's.

"Don't scare me like that again," Richard admonished hm, even as he finally pressed a propriatory kiss against Paul's mouth. 

"I love you," Paul said, as he snagged his hands tightly against Richard's jumper. 

"Love you, too, you fucking bastard," Richard said and he held tighter onto Paul's body. "But I meant it when I said you had to make up for it." 

"Tell me how," Paul said, as he leant in to nuzzle against Richard's nose again.

"Buy me pizza and I'll think about it," Richard replied, even as he caved still further and returned Paul's affectionate Eskimo kiss.

Paul huffed and eased away, a clear air of reluctance to part from Richard so soon clear in his expression, his eyes and the very set of his body. Richard watched as the other man moved confidently about the room, easing the appropriate take-away menu from where they kept them in the drawer by the telephone; he waited and continued watching as Paul dialed the number on the front of the menu and placed their usual order. Richard didn't even have to remind him to go easy on the garlic and to get the extra mayonnaise that he liked; Paul had it all covered and even ordered a portion of extra cheesecake for Richard's sole benefit.

Richard sighed, feeling some of the previous anger drain still further away; Paul was trying hard to make up for his ill-advised joke of earlier on in the evening, and he came up behind Paul to slip his ams around his lover from behind. Paul made a sudden contented purring moan and leant back instinctively into Richard's heat, laying his head back against Richard's shoulder as Richard pressed a kiss against the side of the other man's neck.

"Never forget that I love you, Paul," Richard murmured against the warmth of Paul's throat. "I don't want to see you hurt."

"I know, love, but I wasn't," Paul reminded him, as he reached up to rest one hand briefly against the side of Richard's face. "I didn't mean to scare you, Reesh." 

"Well, you're not quite forgiven yet, Paulchen," Richard announced, decisively, with a sudden laugh as he pulled away.

Paul turned round with one of his customary familiar and still beautiful grins upon his face. 

"I guess I'm just going to have to work extra hard, tonight, then, huh?" Paul asked, but it looked as though he didn't mind the prospect very much.

Richard nodded, and followed Paul into the living room, which he was glad to see was already warmly lit by the low-level lamp they usually only turned on for intimate evenings. The gas fire was glowing and sending its warmth out to the room at large and Paul had even already laid a thick and fuzzy blanket upon the couch, TV on standby with a stack of DVD's piled before it.

"I was hoping that we might have a nice, romantic evening before the TV," Paul confessed, when he saw Richard staring.

"So I see," Richard replied, with a smile. "Just let me get changed into something more comfortable, first. I'm still wearing my work clothes."

Paul hummed, nodded, and didn't move as Richard left the room to hurry his way into a pair of well-worn sweat-pants and his most comfortable t shirt. He made his way through to the living room again and saw that Paul was already settled upon the sofa, blanket draped around his body; Paul opened his eyes at Richard's approach and lifted the edge of the blanket up, silently inviting the other man beneath it. Richard settled beneath its warm embrace and smiled when Paul snuggled against him, flicking on the first of the DVDs via the remote as he did so. Richard barely took any notice of the film, however, too busy with sweeping his hand across Paul's arm, and smiling whenever the other man sighed softly and contentedly. In time, the pizza arrived, and Paul stood without needing to be asked, to take and pay for the steaming boxes of food from the delivery man.

Richard shuffled out into the kitchen to pluck the cutlery and plates from their appropriate drawers and cupboards, returning to the living room at the same time as Paul did. Paul smiled and pulled a couple of slices of still hot pizza from the depths of its box, and laid them on Richard's plate with a couple of handfuls of chips and some garlic bread, alongside a healthy dollop of Richard's favourite mayonnaise to dip his chips into. They ate in silence, exchanging the occasional smile whenever they caught each other's eye and the memory of the sleeping bag debacle soon melted away from Richard's mind. When the meal was over, he leant in, and kissed some mayonnaise away from where it was smeared upon Paul's lips; Paul returned the kiss, eagerly, hungrily, and Richard reached up, propped his hand against the back of Paul's head to deepen the kiss, trying to tell Paul without words just how much he was loved and needed. Every kiss, every cuddle and caress told Richard that Paul was aware and reciprocated every one of Richard's intentions, and the first film's closing credits had started to roll even before they were aware that it had even ended.

"I'm not even watching this anymore," Richard murmured against Paul's lips.

"Neither am I," Paul replied, with a sudden, deep chuckle vibrating against Richard's mouth.

Richard returned the laugh and allowed the other man to pull him to his feet with a shared hefty grunt and sigh; they cleared the mess in the living room away, washed up the dirty dishes and placed the remainder of their meal that they couldn't eat into the fridge. Richard then followed Paul into the bedroom, and watched as his lover changed into his pyjamas for the night, body achingly nude for long moments that seemed to purposefully drag on for longer than necessary. Richard then undressed, himself, slipping into his warmest pyjamas. Paul was already waiting in bed by the time that Richard had finished and he joined him beneath the covers, mouth soon descending lightly upon Paul's. Paul deepened the kiss, turned it lewd and dirty and Richard went along with every kiss, every caress, echoed every soft moan and declaration of love almost swallowed into the fastnesses of the night.

And when they came together at last, bodies joining beneath the covers, with Paul staring up into Richard's face as he thrust inside him again, again, again, Richard felt a sudden sense of peace descending over him and he thought that things couldn't be more perfect than they currently were. He moaned and continued slowly thrusting into his lover, felt Paul's hands skimming caresses over his bare back and butt, pushing down insistently, urging Richard to thrust deeper, harder, and Richard finally did so, a loud groan of completion finally breaking from his lips as his climax rolled through him, leaving him with a sense of sated, relieved pleasure in its wake. He felt the hot, sticky rush of Paul's own release against their skin, as Paul cried out for him, body arching up into his as Paul climaxed. Richard held him through it, and kissed him, before easing gently away to lay beside his lover. They lay in silence for a long time afterwards, neither of them wishing to break the perfect sweetness of the moment

Typically it was Paul who finally had to break that contented silence.

"So, am I forgiven yet?" he asked, as he turned a grin upon Richard.

"Make love to me, and I'll consider it," Richard replied, on the tail end of an amused laugh. 

Paul joined on with the laughter, even as he rolled in, to make good on Richard's request.


End file.
